


Unveiling

by LyaStark



Series: By Any Other Name [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyaStark/pseuds/LyaStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each still ignorant of the other's true identity, Arya and Aegon enjoy each other in the streets of Braavos.</p><p>Sequel to  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3492500">Inspired</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unveiling

_Unveil my façade in the sea of masks before the Titan roars, and another kiss awaits you._

If Palla was aiming for poetry, this line she left for Aegon wasn’t the best. But the invitation excited him just the same.

Since that day in the storeroom of Liel’s shop when he brought her to pleasure, kissing seemed to become their word for all of their playing and exploring together whether they used their mouths or not. He hadn’t bedded her properly yet, but soon, he hoped.

Thankfully, she didn’t make it difficult for him to find her. Without a designated meeting place, it could have taken him hours to search through the crowds of festival goers in elaborate disguises. But, long before the Titan’s horn blew to celebrate the anniversary of Braavos’ Uncloaking, he came upon her standing beside a fountain they often gravitated toward on their walks during the last few weeks. A grey mask covered her face from forehead to nose. But he would recognize her slender body and graceful movements even if the whole of her face were wrapped in a burlap sack.

Making certain his own black mask was in place, Aegon crept up behind Palla and seized her in an embrace. She relaxed in his arms, but gasped.

Elbowing him playfully, Palla cried, “Griff! You could have warned me.”

“Where would be the fun in that, my pretty Palla?”

“ _Arya_.”

“What?”

“Don’t you know? Everybody’s wearing a mask to celebrate the Uncloaking. Nobody’s who they say they are. Tonight, I won’t be Palla. I’m Arya.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Who are you?”

Aegon hesitated. He thought of giving her his true name. But only briefly. The thought of hearing his name pass her lips, even if just for tonight, sent a lonely ache through his chest. The great risk and the lifelong habit of lying kept him from so much as hinting at the truth of his identity.

Forcing himself to laugh lightly, Aegon said, “Ten days of masks and secrets is enough for me. I’ll stay Griff.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Do I get to unveil you now, _Arya_? Or should we-”

Palla turned in his arms and kissed him full on the mouth, her nails digging in to the back of his neck, holding him to her. She pulled back a fraction only to brush her lips lightly against his again before twisting away completely.

“Come on!” she called, dashing through the busy square toward one of the foggy, crooked alleyways.

Aegon readily gave chase, weaving after her through the revelers. He had lost count of the streets they’d raced through before she finally stopped in an empty alley. The second she turned to face him, Aegon had her in his arms, pressing her slender form against the nearest building as his mouth found hers again. Not breaking contact, Palla – _Arya_ – spun them around so his back pressed against the stone. As her tongue trailed along his lips, her left hand slipped between their bodies. His cock twitched at the feel of her fingers running along the front of his breeches, tracing his outline. To Aegon’s surprise, she began tugging at the laces.

Usually, she only did this after he had brought her to pleasure in a similar way. “To keep us even,” Palla would say. But Aegon didn’t question it when she pulled him from his breeches right there in the middle of the alley and began stroking him.

The first few times they did this, Palla had been eager to learn with a seriousness and concentration that almost made Aegon feel as though he and his cock were puzzles for her to study and master. And master him she did. The moment Palla touched him, all self-control slipping away, yielding to her power.

The calloused texture of her hand moving over the sensitive skin was intoxicating. Just a few strokes with her thumb brushing over his tip and he was painfully hard. All the while, she pressed wet, open mouthed kisses to his neck, nipping here and there.

“Palla,” he moaned, as she began to make her way downward toward his chest.

Her head snapped up and her hand stilled. “ _Arya_.”

“Arya,” he repeated.

Palla rewarded him with another stroke, only to stop again, waiting.

“Arya,” he said again, earning him another stroke.

Then her mouth was on him again. “Not too loud,” she said between kisses. “You don’t want someone to hear.”

He glanced over at the end of the alley where sounds of celebration could be heard, but only saw fog glowing gold in the lantern light.

“Wait.” Aegon held her shoulders and stopped her when she began to kneel.

“What? Is someone coming?”

“No, here.” He untied the cloak from his shoulders and knelt to arrange it on the ground.

“So chivalrous,” she said, pushing Aegon firmly against the wall again once he stood up again. She moved in as though to press her lips to his once more, only to sink downward onto her knees in front of him.

The wet, familiar warmth of her mouth around his cock sent Aegon’s hand grasping fruitlessly at the stone building for something to hold onto.

“Arya,” he groaned.

“Quiet,” she hissed, exposing his cock to the cool air for a moment before taking him into her warmth again.

He cursed into his hand.

Arya didn’t take her time or tease as she had taken to doing of late. No, her head bobbed back and forth quickly while her tongue danced patterns along his cock. She clearly meant to bring him off as fast as possible. Understandable, given how easily someone could stumble upon them.

But Aegon didn’t bother to care about discovery just now. His mind was too pleasantly occupied by the delicious feel of Arya’s lips running up and down his cock. And _gods_ , the way her tongue would swirl round his tip, flicking over the slit when she reached the end.

His fingers slid through her smooth brown hair, trying to control her movements as he felt his release coming. But there was no need. She kept her pace and drank down every drop of his seed, as he groaned into the fist he was biting.

By the time Aegon’s breathing steadied, Arya was lacing him up again, a smug smile gracing the lips below her mask.

“We should-” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

Aegon grabbed Arya about the waist, and swung her around so he pressed against her back and she faced the wall.

“Just so we’re even,” he said, pulling up her skirt.

Arya smiled at him over her shoulder, and folded her forearms against the wall at the level of her face, resting her cheek against them.

Her cunt was already sopping wet when his hand slipped into her smallclothes. Aegon smirked, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing quick circles over the warm folds. Her hitched breaths matched the pace of his movements.

“Sucking my cock,” he whispered against her ear, “makes you wet?”

“Hearing you say my name…” Arya muffled a groan. “…makes me …wet.”

“Arya,” he breathed in her ear, speeding up the strokes.

“ _Yes_.”

“Arya.”

“Again.”

“Arya…” Aegon chanted.

“ _Griff_.” Arya gave a high pitch sigh as she peaked. Aegon covered her mouth with his own just as she was about to cry out the word again, cursing himself for not taking the risk of giving his own name just for the night. But mayhaps that was for the best. He might not have the strength to try quieting her if Arya was crying out his true name.

 _Palla_ , he reminded himself, continuing to caress her as she shuddered against him.

Aegon laughed at himself for beginning to think of Palla as “Arya,” even in his thoughts.

When she regained herself, Palla straightened her skirts and turned toward him. She bit her lip and rested a palm against his cheek, not saying anything for a time. He covered her hand with his.

“Is something amiss?” Aegon asked. “Didn’t you like that?”

Even through the grey mask, he could see her roll her eyes.

“You _know_ I did,” she said. “We should go back to the festival. We don’t want to miss the Uncloaking.”

“I’d like to uncloak the rest of you,” he said, slipping his arms around her again.

“Mayhaps another night. Tonight, I want to dance.”

The next day, Aegon arrived at Liel’s for what had become his usual midday meal with Palla, only to find that she was gone.

“Gone?” Aegon repeated, bewildered.

“Gone,” Liel repeated. Though his tone was firm, there was more than a little fear marring his features “Gone to a cousin in Lorath who has a son she can marry.”

“Marry! But-”

“I will speak no more of her! If you want to buy something, you may stay. But if not, go.”

Aegon left in a fury.

Jon was pleased when he learned, for he had feared that Aegon’s head had been turned by a common girl who could only hinder their mission.

Lemore comforted him, insisting that they would have parted eventually so the pain was inevitable.

Duck joked that at least Palla had sent him on his way properly before jilting him.

For himself, Aegon insisted he didn’t care. They were just playing, him and Palla. Just passing the time while the plans for his true future were made.

But still, sometimes Aegon thought he saw his pretty Palla around Braavos, recognizing that slim form and those graceful movements in women he saw strolling about the city, only to be confronted time and again with the face of a stranger.

It was a relief when Jon determined that it was time to leave Braavos.


End file.
